


Five Minutes to Midnight

by winterwaters



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - After College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drabble, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Late Night Conversations, Longing, long distance, military bellamy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-08 10:03:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4300566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterwaters/pseuds/winterwaters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern AU: Clarke and Bellamy count the days as his final tour with the army winds down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Minutes to Midnight

**Author's Note:**

> Just a fluffy drabble I couldn't get out of my head. Wrote it rather quickly so hope there's no blatant errors. Hope you enjoy :)

Clarke took slow steps up to the porch, one hand on the railing, the other jiggling her keyring. At the top, she paused to give a thumbs up to Octavia, who was adamantly parked on the street, her maroon car half on the sidewalk. The other girl smiled and waved an arm out the window, her voice echoing into the night.

“Told you I’d get you home before midnight!” Despite her words, she didn't move.

With a grin, Clarke unlocked her front door and stuck a foot inside, pointedly putting a hand on her hip. Moments later, the ignition started. She turned in time to see Octavia making a questionable U-turn before speeding off. Smiling, she stepped inside, dropping her keys in the purple clay bowl by the door. It had been a fixture there ever since one of her students painstakingly created it in her art class, only to present it to her as a Christmas gift over two years ago.

She toed off her striped flats at the bottom of the brown rack she affectionately called The Leaning Tower of Shoes. Bellamy had insisted on putting it together, and so the thing was predictably teetering off-center. Though, it had stayed upright for longer than she expected. The house was quiet without him-- too quiet. Not for the first time, Clarke was thankful they hadn’t gotten the larger two-story one, but instead the wider single floor home. Even this space was too large for one person.

 _Soon it won’t be just one, princess,_ Bellamy’s gleeful voice echoed in her head.

With a hand on her stomach, she wandered into the kitchen and flipped on the light. “What should we eat tonight, hmm?” She asked softly. Opening the fridge, she frowned at her options. Some left over chicken and gravy, mashed potatoes, and half the lasagna from Octavia’s dinner a few nights ago. Nothing seemed appealing.

She opened the freezer next, grinning when she felt movement in her belly. “Yeah, I agree sweetie. Ice cream, definitely.”

Her hand drifted from Bellamy’s strawberry cheesecake - she’d leave that unopened until he was home - to the cookies and cream, to Rocky Road. Clarke absently patted the soft swell of her stomach when she felt another light kick. “Mhmm. Yep. Definitely this one.”

Foregoing a bowl, she took out the pint and a spoon and headed for the living room. Her Mac was on the coffee table where she’d left it. Happily, she settled on the couch and wrapped herself in the large red blanket, nosing the material as she remembered how she and Bellamy usually fought for it until she ended up curled in his lap. _Totally your plan all along,_ he liked to accuse her.

A slight sting behind her eyes warned her of the tears welling up, and she squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip until she was sure they’d gone back down.

_32 days. We can do this._

They’d survived many more than 32 days apart, after all. Bellamy had been with the army for some time now, like many of the kids in her town. She’d grown up with him and Octavia, chased after them all throughout elementary school, spent endless nights huddled in Octavia’s bed after her parents divorced, and even learned to drive alongside them - usually with Bellamy, her reluctant instructor. 

Some time in high school, after she’d decided to pursue art full time, she’d realized she no longer looked at Bellamy as just her friend, but the boy whose arms were distractingly attractive when he reached for things on higher shelves, whose hugs not only made her feel secure, but wanted, and how his crooked smile suddenly had her heart flipping uncontrollably and her knees all wobbly. She began to wonder if he still saw her as his sister’s scrawny little friend, or if she was imagining how his gaze lingered on more than one occasion or how he spent most of his rare free time with her.

Slowly but surely, they had inched closer-- helped in no small part because of Octavia’s new boyfriend Lincoln.

It had been Clarke who kept Bellamy from driving right to Lincoln’s house and doing something stupid; her who coaxed him into just going for a drive to the river every time he felt like doing so; her who let him yell and rant about how Lincoln was too old and too tattooed and just too--

“In love?” She finally asked one night.

He sagged instantly, like air deflating from a balloon, and then simply sat down where she was leaning against a tree trunk and put his head in her lap. Her hands wove into his hair by second nature, soothing over his scalp, and before she knew it he’d shifted to face her, eyes bright with emotion.

“I’m gonna miss her,” he whispered.

She curled over him until she could feel his breath on her jaw. “You won’t get rid of her that easy." The ache in his eyes made her hesitate only a second before she added, "And in case you’ve forgotten, I’m still here.”

Bellamy stared at her for a long time. Then a hand rose to cup her cheek, tentative at first, more firm when she didn’t pull away. “You are,” he murmured, and she nodded.

He leaned up just as she leaned down, their lips meeting carefully, wonderingly, learning each other for the first time and many times after.

When she and Octavia were in college, Bellamy had taken up a job in construction, but he hated it. Clarke’s heart ached to see him come home every night with such tiredness stretching his features and wearing on his body. His sister was the one who ultimately convinced him to quit, printing out paper after paper from their bank accounts and her own paystubs to show him that she would be just fine if he looked after himself for once.

Clarke had always known Bellamy wanted to teach. But it required at least a basic degree, usually more than that, and despite all their research, he wasn’t confident he’d be able to pay for more than a year or two, having already taken on numerous loans to support him and his sister while growing up.

But then they passed a booth one day at the state fair, advertising the GI bill and free education-- in return for a few years of his life. She’d almost pulled him back, tugged at his belt loop to distract him, when she saw the longing on his face, the chance to _do_ something, _be_ something, and so she’d hung onto his hand as he walked over, smiled encouragingly when he picked up a few forms, even though her own erratic heart was begging otherwise.

Octavia was livid when she found out. She didn’t speak to Bellamy for nearly two weeks, though Clarke kept tabs on her through Lincoln all the same, knowing her fury came from a deep-rooted fear that scared her even more. The siblings were stubborn as ever - but she was worse. So finally at her own fake birthday party, she’d locked them in the pantry together, sitting in the hall as the silence grew and grew until it finally burst.

When it was over, she unlocked the door and headed back to the living room. They didn’t emerge for another twenty minutes, plopping next to her on the couch in silence and occasionally sneaking some popcorn while she finished marathoning another season of Friends.

It was during another random Friends episode that Bellamy had proposed to her. They'd been tucked together on the couch under the blanket when he was back on his first leave, and the words had burst out of him and hung in the air for an impossibly long time as she simply gaped to the point that he got seriously concerned. Then, as he put it, she fairly attacked him, repeating _yes_ into his mouth and skin for the remainder of the night and into the morning. Her only condition was that they make it official before he had to go back. Since his leave was only a week long, they found themselves at City Hall with a chipper group of friends determinedly trailing after them and cheering raucously as they slipped gold bands onto each other's fingers.

Tonight, Clarke started up in the middle of season five again - her favorite season - watching Monica and Chandler flail around as they tried to hide their relationship. Settling back, she dug into her ice cream with a contented sigh.

“You chose good, baby girl,” she mumbled sleepily to her belly.

Her phone buzzed on the table a few minutes later. She checked the alarm, then glanced at the clock, noting it was almost midnight. Eagerly, she set aside the ice cream and opened her laptop, pulling up Skype and tapping her fingers impatiently on her knee until the tell-tale ring sounded out. She answered on the first ring, beaming as soon as Bellamy’s face popped into view. He looked disheveled, his hair a near bird's nest, and there might have been sand still stuck to his neck, but he was her Bellamy all the same.

“Hey you,” his voice filtered through the speakers, rough and worn out and so familiar she just wanted to wrap herself up in it.

“Hi,” she whispered, pulling the screen closer. “How are you?”

“Better. Today's better. How are my favorite ladies tonight?”

In answer, Clarke held up the pint of Rocky Road, grinning at his bark of laughter. “Good decision. Who chose that, you or Peanut?” That had been his nickname for their baby ever since he’d seen the sonogram while on a few days’ leave.

“We tag-teamed.”

Another rich laugh warmed her to her toes. “Of course you did,” he said lovingly. Then his forehead creased in concern. “You look really tired, Clarke. Are you sleeping okay?”

“I’m alright,” she assured. “It’s parent-teacher conference week here, so things have been a bit more hectic than usual. Plus I was helping Kyle plan for Raven’s thing and… well, it’s Raven. You know.”

“Oh wow, was that tonight?” Bellamy rubbed a hand over his face. “I totally forgot. No wonder you look exhausted.”

“I’ll be fine in the morning. It was totally worth it anyways, just to see Kyle at her beck and call. Not that he isn’t always…”

They both chuckled knowingly. Clarke traced the beloved lines of his face through the screen with a small sigh, unable to help her wish that he was here in person. _Soon._ “We kept some dessert aside for you. Pineapple upside down cake.”

“I’ll devour it,” he promised softly. “So how was your latest check-up?”

Clarke smiled. “Everyone’s happy and healthy,” she recited, watching his face ease in relief. “She offered to tell us the sex, like she does every time. I declined. Though I still think it’s a girl.”

“You’re probably right. You know I don’t care either way as long as he or she doesn’t get there before I do.”

“All the more reason for you to hurry up, mister.”

Bellamy grinned briefly before he was shouldered out of the way and Miller’s face took up the screen. “Hey Clarke! Or are you going by Mrs. Blake now?”

“Hey Nate,” she laughed as Bellamy struggled to get back in his seat. “All the kids call me Mrs. Blake. Some of them even took to ‘Mrs. Bell’. One in particular, a Miss Gabriella Miller?” She shook a finger admonishingly. “I assume that was your and Sir Monty’s doing?”

He smiled cheerily. “That’s my girl, the one and only. How’s our family holding up?”

“I just saw your dad at the post office the other day. He and Gabby were ready to take over the town. Raven says hi, by the way, and to get your ass back here so she can show you what you’re missing. You too,” she added to the part of Bellamy’s face that wasn’t obscured.

Bellamy finally managed to shove Miller to the side again, shooting him a look. “Before I forget, Clarke, I might not be able to video chat for a couple days again, but I’ll still be able to talk, if you don’t mind staying up a bit later.”

“How dare you inconvenience me like this, Mr. Blake?” She teased.

“I’ll make it up to you, Mrs. Blake,” he replied softly.

Clarke smiled in the midst of a huge yawn. Bellamy laughed. “That’s your cue to get to bed before you fall asleep on that couch again. Don’t even deny it,” he said when her mouth opened.

“Okay.”

That was the one thing she still had trouble with. She hated sleeping in their bed alone. It felt too big, too strange, to wake up to silence in the house instead of his usual morning routine, to not be able to burrow into his side because he'd hogged all the covers. It was often why she found herself more than content to drift off on the couch while the TV played in the background. Octavia had taken to sleeping over after the third time she walked in on Clarke bleary-eyed and stretching on the couch cushions. Now it was only the size of her belly that made her use the bed more often.

“Hey.” Bellamy’s voice brought her back to reality. “32 days, babe.”

“I know.” Her eyes drifted to the clock and she smiled. “31 now.”

His smile was radiant even through the screen. “31.”

“Same time tomorrow night?” Clarke asked.

“It’s a date.”

“Don’t stand me up, Blake. I know where you live.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, princess.”

She grinned. “By the way, I tried telling the little one a story the other night when she was moving around too much. The one with the seasons, with Persephone and Hades.”

“Oh yeah? Did it work?”

“Like a charm. She’s definitely your daughter.” She wrinkled her nose momentarily. “Though I think you tell it way better.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve dredged up even more stories here that’ll put you and our munchkin to sleep in no time.”

“Can’t wait.” She put her fingers to her lips and touched the screen. “Good night, Bellamy. Be safe.”

“Night, Clarke. You too Peanut, don’t keep your mom up. I’ll see you both soon.”

~~~~~~~~~

Bellamy called each night after that at midnight on the dot, and they managed to video chat twice more in the coming weeks. By the time the final week arrived, Clarke was practically bouncing through the house and throughout town. Everyone greeted her with more enthusiasm than usual, catching onto her mood. The cashier at the supermarket struck up a conversation about her latest shortbread recipes, having been around in the early stages of their relationship when Clarke haphazardly rushed through trying to scrounge up ingredients for a last-minute date idea.

At the bakery, Monty stuck an extra loaf of honey wheat bread into her order, refusing to charge her for it. “Three days,” he winked.

“Three days,” she echoed, kissing him on the cheek. “Tell Gabby I said hi!”

The mailman who had dropped off and picked up countless letters from her stopped to chat as she waddled up the driveway, even helping her get the groceries up to the porch. Octavia came by soon after and they spent the rest of the afternoon picking out decorations and food for the welcome home party they were planning.

The day before Bellamy was schedule to return, Clarke laid out her favorite red sundress on the bed, smiling at the thought of how it now stretched over the swell of her belly. Yes, that was absolutely how she wanted to greet him at the airport. When they talked two nights ago, she’d insisted on picking him up, and he hadn’t argued. They hadn’t been able to talk last night because he was on a plane - _a plane!_ \- to Germany, where the military hospital would do his final checkup and physical before sending him to the states. Her heart fluttered as she thought of him signing his release papers for good this time, the military fatigues that would be hung up in their closet but not worn again. He’d already applied to grad schools on his last visit, and the huge acceptance envelopes sat proudly on their coffee table, waiting.

She pulled on a faded blue dress and tucked her sunglasses into her hair, skipping out the door to Octavia’s. The sun shone brightly from its place high in the sky, not a cloud in sight. 

_Even the weather knows you’re coming home, Bell,_ she thought. 

Octavia lived only a few minutes away by car, but Clarke decided to walk the distance, every part of her body energized by anticipation. The brunette flung the door open just as she rounded the corner, already flying down the steps. Clarke laughed as her friend slowed just slightly before grabbing her in a fierce hug, swaying on the sidewalk.

“I’m guessing you got the official answer?” She questioned into her shoulder.

Octavia nodded, still holding on tightly. “Harper confirmed. It’s happening, Clarke! I’m pregnant!”

She squealed in delight, and they clung to each other for another long moment. Clarke was beyond thrilled for her. She knew better than most how difficult it had been for Octavia to conceive, and yet even after a year of trying specific medications and lab tests to determine the cause, her friend had never given up hope. Lincoln had been as strong and reliable as ever, and now they were finally getting the chance they both deserved. They were going to be wonderful parents.

“Bell’s going to lose his mind,” Clarke laughed.

Octavia drew back, grinning mischievously. “I know. I’m still trying to figure out how to tell him. It has to be perfect.”

Giggling, they headed inside the house to put the final touch on the homecoming party, spending the rest of the day reminiscing about old stories and plotting the various ways for Octavia to spill the beans to both Lincoln and Bellamy.

~~~~~~~~~

Octavia insisted on dropping her off that night, waiting as always until Clarke reached the top step and turned on the porch light. Clarke waved and opened her door, stepping into the darkened house. 

Rubbing her belly, she smiled happily. “One more day, baby girl.” She flipped on the hallway light and padded barefoot to the kitchen, opening the fridge again. “What’s it going to be tonight?”

“I was thinking strawberry shortcake.”

Clarke nearly fell over. As it was, she had the fridge handle in a death grip as she whirled around, the shriek catching in her throat at the sight of Bellamy standing before her in just a t-shirt and jeans. He smiled shakily, dark eyes already hovering between her face and her rounded stomach and down to her swollen ankles before finding her gaze once more. She opened and closed her mouth twice, unable to form words. He swallowed, the motion drawing her eyes to the line of the dog tags under his shirt. 

“I know you wanted to pick me up,” he began, and it was the sound of his voice that managed to break through the hammering of her heart, making it all suddenly very real.

The sob worked its way out of her chest without warning, and then she was moving at the same time as Bellamy, launching herself into his open arms. It turned into a full stream of tears as soon as she inhaled the woodsy scent of him, as soon as she felt his arms surround her crushingly tight. Her chest heaved with hitchy, jerky breaths as she buried her face into the crook of his neck. There was faint wetness on her shoulder where he’d rested his cheek, his mouth open against her skin as if to just breathe her in.

Eventually he sighed, a warm rush of air against her ear, then began to drop a line of kisses along the curve of her neck, pausing where he knew she was ticklish and making her wriggle in his grip with a small squeak. He was smiling when she finally managed to yank his head down for a proper kiss, both melting a little more into each other as their mouths met after far too long.

When he finally did pull back, it was only to draw his lips over every inch of her face, catching the rest of her tears as she laughed, a bit delirious.

She cradled his cheek between her hands, looking up at him in awe as he rested his forehead against hers. Bellamy smiled and kissed her again, gentler. 

“I couldn’t wait ‘til midnight this time.”


End file.
